The Phantom – Rise of the Warlords Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
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Still and quiet, he sat in his chair by the hearth, his eyes closed. He should have looked at peace. He didn’t. Tension roiled from him.

“There’s something I want to do, which means you gotta come with me so I can keep my promise,” she said. “Also, you need to...nothing. Never mind.” She’d meant to tell him to hide the crown, too, but the words dissolved in her throat.

Now that she understood the crystals possessed power, she knew better than to approach. But, really, was there a valid reason to forever shield the headpiece from her view? No, of course not. Look how pretty it was, bathed in morning light. This masterpiece deserved to be examined daily.

Blythe stepped forward, reaching—Argh! Snared again. Scowling, she drew back. Focus. In a matter of minutes, multiple someones would knock on the bedroom door to offer the Astra breakfast and a blow job.

“Wake. Up,” she commanded, clapping her hands.

Slowly he parted his lids, revealing stormy irises. Bothered by the council’s plot to betray him? Or something else? Yeah, must be something else. The male considered himself too powerful to harm. And it was as irritating as it was sexy.

He scanned her once, twice, and gulped. Tension pulled the corners of his lips down as he gripped the arms of the chair.

Did he approve of her new look?

When his leathers pulled tight, she almost grinned. Oh, yeah. He approved.

While he’d slept the approaching dawn away, she’d cleaned up in the bathroom and dressed with care, selecting a sheer white dress with bright red cotton undergarments. All of which she’d had to adjust for her wings. Worth it.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and rasped, “What does the she-beast desire, exactly?”

Time to take advantage of his appreciation. “I want to swim in the lake.” Get her peepers on Wraith Island again. There’d been no sign of Penelope in the market. Maybe the wraith would appreciate a curbside visit. Maybe not. Perhaps Blythe would encounter a different wraith and pass along a message. The day was ripe with promise.

“The water is ice-cold,” he reminded her.

“So? I don’t recall asking his most delicate royal highness to get in. If you prefer, you can watch me from the shore and stay all hot and bothered. Yeah. That’s right. I noticed your hard-on.” The best way to cover her desire? Exploit his. “And yes, I’m very aware it’s pointed in my direction. And only mine.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw. “No swimming.”

Okay, so, taunting him hadn’t been the smartest course of action. Noted.

“Why do you wish to venture into the territory of the female who controls you, anyway?” he demanded.

She kicked into a swift pace in front of his chair. “Look, I’m used to activity. Exercise. I’ve been cooped up for far too long, and I’ve gotta expend some energy before I combust.” Truth.

“Energy?” Something akin to hope flickered in his eyes next. “Is the wraith no longer able to drain you?”

In other words, had Blythe ceased hating him. “Or,” she added, with a roll of her eyes, “we can return to the market, and you can use your muscles to purchase more supplies.”

A scowl twisted his features. “Fine. I will take you swimming. In exchange, you will answer a question for me.”

The old one or a new one, such as how she planned to inconvenience him today? Either way, triumph lit her up inside. Already a step closer to her goal! “Deal,” she said. “Ask.”

“Did you get all hot and bothered as well?”

Her breath caught. His tone. Like melted honey poured over ice. He had sensed her desire. Or at least suspected she harbored it. “Yes,” she grated. “But I thought of Laban.” Because she always sometimes thought of Laban. Just not often enough anymore.

Roux’s scowl returned, and shame slapped her. Unable to meet his gaze, she dropped her attention, landing on the thumping pulse at the base of his throat. The perfect place to tap his soul. Mmm. Even his vein looked good. How sweet would he taste? How much power would flood her system before she vomited him?

“Do you need to feed, Blythe?” A softly uttered question.

Maybe? “I—”

A knock sounded at the door, bringing her back to her senses, saving her from making a huge mistake.

Demonstrating pure frustration, Roux grabbed his backpack and stood. “We leave now.” With two long strides, he reached her side and yanked her body against his.

Blink. Suddenly, they stood on the rocky, mossy beach, enveloped by a cold, boisterous wind that whipped tendrils of Blythe’s hair across the Astra’s face.

She peered up at him, struggling to rein in an unexpected sense of comfort. Being in a man’s arms shouldn’t feel this good. Especially this man’s arms. But it did feel good. So, so good.

He reached up and smoothed those errant locks of hair behind her ears. A gentle caress. Defenses crumbled, and she leaned into him. The urge to rest her head on his shoulder was nearly irresistible. To drink in his strength and his heat. To forget the past and their troubles and just be, if only for a moment. But she couldn’t ignore their history. She shouldn’t.


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